


Words As Yet Unspoken

by turnedherbrain



Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Leotilda, Love, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Burn, s3 predictions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 05:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14513940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnedherbrain/pseuds/turnedherbrain
Summary: s3 prediction fic.They say that 80 per cent of conversation is non-verbal. Made up of gestures, thoughts; words left unspoken.Not spoken, maybe: but meaningful, like the dot dot dash of Morse code.They say..... - ... . - - .. .





	1. Unspoken

They say that 80 per cent of conversation is non-verbal. Made up of gestures, thoughts; words left unspoken.

Not spoken, maybe: but meaningful, like the dot dot dash of Morse code.

_They say..._

.. - ... . - - .. .

 

It was a week after the riots, the news still spiked with condemnation.

Mattie and Leo had occupied an unobtrusive corner booth at the café, hoping to remain hidden. Leo had chosen it as a vantage point to observe the door opening, closing; a steady stream of people moving in and out. The movement chimed with the daily rhythm of the city: that invisible clockwork of human lives.

The choice of hidden corner, huddled-so-close, spoke so much about them. What they each held inside, that they tried to contain. Trying to outrun their memories; sharing everything they dared. But not yet everything. Not yet all. She had supported him through his time in intensive care: his caring shadow, his constant support. But they had relied on one another for so long now, that they had become each other’s life support system. Never talking about why, or how it had happened. It simply _was_.  
  
A solitary speaker above their heads spilled out a song

_the world was on fire  
and no-one could save me but you_

the singer’s voice husky and heartfelt. A strange normality presided in here, even though the outside world was controlled chaos. In here, people – organic humans – were ordering vanilla lattes, smashed avocado on sourdough... all as if nothing had changed. It felt unreal, dislocated.

‘What is ‘smashed avocado’ even?’ asked Mattie with pretend innocence, deliberately trying to lighten the underlying mood while they waited. ‘I mean, someone’s just _smulched_ it with a fork...’

‘Smulched? That’s not a word,’ said Leo, with amused certainty. He was still slightly hunched over, semi-tensed. He observed the door continually, willing the others to walk through.

 _1,2,3,4,_ he counted in his head. _When I get to 5, they’ll be here_. It was something he’d done as a child, to make himself feel secure, or to wish for something to magically happen. In adulthood, the superstition hadn’t quite left him.

‘Smulched **_is_** a word!’ mock-argued Mattie, interrupting his thoughts. ‘I invented it. It’s ‘smashed’ and ‘mulched’, all mixed together.’ It was her attempt at making him laugh, and she was filled with silent joy when she observed his smile. _Smile once more. Your happiness buoys me up._

‘Do you remember the first time we met?’ Leo asked suddenly, like they were a couple in their old age, recalling a first date. _It’s something I’ve replayed – something I wish I could relive; change._

‘Yes. It was in another café. User 885. Hubot97. It wasn’t as nice as this one, though,’ observed Mattie drily, remembering their online identities. _That was the start of everything._

‘What did you think of me?’ _I didn’t expect to find you._

Mattie hesitated, trying to think of all the ways she could tell him, without **_telling him_** , before she settled on: ‘I thought you were quite nice.’ _Ask me what I think of you now._

‘Quite nice? Ouch. That’s damning with faint praise,’ said Leo, with unsuppressed sarcasm. _I was too blinkered – I just wanted to find Mia._

‘You asked: I answered,’ Mattie retorted lightly. ‘But now that I know you better...’ Leo stopped looking at the door for a second, and paid attention. ‘...now that I know you better... I think you’re more than quite nice.’ _Say that you glimpse through my words. Say that you know how I truly feel._

Leo smiled once more. _A double smile_. _An unheard of happiness._

‘Well, that’s good,’ he said, being deliberately bland, but still smiling. ‘Because... because I think you’re more than quite nice too.’ _You’re an idiot. Just tell her..._

Mattie tried to stop her own smile from automatically appearing. She understood his real meaning. Because this was a mainly silent conversation, of course: most of their words left unsaid.

‘Do you want another coffee?’ she asked, to diffuse the unseen charge; the electric spark from the words they weren’t yet speaking.

‘Mmmm, yes. Double espresso, please.’ _Don’t step away, even for a second. I want to tell you..._

‘Do you want to try the smashed avocado as well?’ _Smile again. Please... help me erase the guilt..._

‘Not unless they smulch it instead,’ laughed Leo, sitting straighter now.

‘I’ll ask.’ replied Mattie, pretending to be serious. But when she walked off to the counter, she let herself smile.

Leo took his eyes off the door for long enough to let his gaze linger on Mattie – but only when she’d turned away, and it was safe. He began to count silently.

_If she looks back on 5, I’ll ask her..._

 

_1_

 

_2_

 

_3_

 

_4_

 

 _Five._ And Mattie turned, looked over at him.

_Ask her._

In his head, he rehearsed the words. Tried not to feel nervous. Hoped that she would say yes, when he finally said what he wanted to say

 

out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyric from ‘Wicked Game’, the London Grammar version


	2. Spoken

_Just. Tell her._

But still his resolution faltered, failed. Too many hopeful thoughts that he couldn’t form into words. Not yet. Not quite yet.

.. - ... . - - .. .

 

Once the others had arrived, they hurriedly shared the day’s reports, then disbanded to their disparate digs on the edge of the synth zone.

In this scattershot accommodation, Leo and Mattie’s rooms were side by side. A partition wall; their beds either side. A minimum of space in between. Some nights, he had willed that blank wall to collapse, until there was nothing between them but dust and air and what was left unspoken.

He remembered parts of his time with Hester. His half-shredded, unreliable memory didn’t allow him to forget. Niska called her ‘the H-word’. Mia and Max wisely didn’t mention her at all. Mattie did only once, when she was angry: she’d called her ‘that mad synth’.

But he knew that this feeling for Mattie – this unspoken feeling – was very different to the aberration he’d had before. It was like the glow of fire held up against glacial ice; a warm touch instead of a chill blow. It was real. It was human.

_Tell her. Just tell her._

Too late to talk: only time to go bleary-eyed to bed; to sleep.

_Just... **Tell. Her.**_

He only needed to knock at her door once. Mattie was there: aware, expectant.

‘Can we talk?’ Not yet knowing what to say.

‘It’s late...’ _No. We need to... I want to._

‘Do you want to leave it until tomorrow?’ He shrugged, semi-turning to walk away.

‘No. It’s OK.’ She spoke softer now. ‘We should talk. What did you want to talk about?’

‘Just... things.’ Another shrug.

‘Things. There are a lot of things we could talk about. The world crisis. Synth rights. The resistance.’ Mattie tried to list everything but what she was really thinking.

‘Not that. Us.’

‘Oh. Us?’ _Don’t fake casual, Mattie._

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I met you as a stranger on the internet. That’s a classic mistake.’ _Stop now. Stop doing that sarcastic thing. You like him. You **way** more than like him..._

‘User 885. Hubot97.’ Leo laughed, gradually more at ease.

‘It feels like an age ago, doesn’t it? So much has changed...’

‘Yes. But – one thing hasn’t changed. You. You’re so brave. You are the one human I completely trust. Completely.’

Mattie tried not to cry, because she’d hidden this for far too long. ‘Why do you think I’m here Leo? Why do you think I’ve stayed?’

‘Because you believe in the cause... because you support synth rights...’

‘I’d like to think my main reason was so noble.’ Mattie stepped towards him, one slight step. She was fire melting ice. ‘What was it you came to say?’

But now they’d both stepped closer. Words were not needed.

Instead: imagine a fragmentary wall, tumbling down into invisible dust.

A warm touch. A smile. A caress. A kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a ficlet for the ‘Humans’ s3 predictions challenge [@humanspredictions](https://humanspredictions.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, but it got a bit longer :’)
> 
> Either way: I predict (or hope) that Mattie and Leo get together in s3, because the show’s writers have teased us for long enough :)


End file.
